I barely registered the soft knock at the door before it creaked open, and the cold of Headmistress Hawthorne's office seemed to swallow me whole. I hadn't realized how tightly I was gripping the armrest of my chair until the ache in my fingers snapped me back to the present.
Hawthorne's hawk-like eyes met mine, locking me in place.
"Now," she began, her voice as sharp as a blade, "what have you done, child?"
I swallowed thickly. My throat burned with the weight of her words, but I couldn't bring myself to answer.
"A dead student," she continued, her voice icy and controlled. "In the middle of our school. And not just any student—Rose. The daughter of one of the most powerful families we've ever produced."
I opened my mouth, but Maddie's voice cut through the tension first.
"Hey!" Maddie shot to her feet, glaring at Hawthorne. "This wasn't our fault! Rose just—she was there, and we didn't—"
"Sit down, Miss Parker," Hawthorne interrupted sharply.
Maddie slumped back into her chair with a muttered "Fine," but she wasn't done. "Olivia's about to pass out, Violet's convinced we're all going to jail, and Alex—" Maddie gestured at me—"has been staring at the wall for what feels like forever. I mean, seriously, you don't even notice, do you?"
"I'm fine," I muttered, though the words felt hollow in my mouth. I wasn't fine. None of us were.
The sharp ring of the phone on Hawthorne's desk made Olivia flinch, and Hawthorne didn't look away from us as she picked it up.
"Yes," she said crisply, her gaze never leaving us. "Send them in."
With a single, brisk motion, she hung up the phone and folded her hands on the desk, her lips tight.
"Ah," she said, her voice suddenly smooth. "There they are."
The door creaked open once more, and in stepped Eva St. Claire, her presence as flawless as ever. Even in the dim light of the office, her platinum-blonde hair shone like a halo, and her uniform was pristine, not a wrinkle to be seen.
Behind her, Tyler Campbell trudged in, looking disheveled but somehow still too smug for his good. He grinned at us as if this were some kind of social event, unaware of the tension suffocating the room.
"Good evening, Headmistress Hawthorne," Eva said, voice cool and collected.
Hawthorne's brow arched slightly. "Given the circumstances, Miss St. Claire, I hardly think this evening qualifies as 'good.'"
Tyler blinked, confusion clouding his face. "So it's true then? There's a dead body?"
"Yes, Mr. Campbell," Hawthorne said, her voice cold as ice. "That is why you are here."
Tyler nodded, his expression turning more animated. "Huh. Whoever it is isn't having a good night, right, bro?" He nudged me like we were sharing an inside joke, grinning like he thought he was being clever.
I shot him a glare, but it did nothing to dampen his grin. He just kept on grinning, completely oblivious.
"Yeah, sure, bro," I muttered darkly, not in the mood for his idiocy.
Eva shot me a sharp, calculating look, clearly already assessing what was happening, but her eyes flicked back to Tyler as if she couldn't quite believe what was coming out of his mouth.
Hawthorne didn't even blink. She continued to observe us with a piercing gaze, her fingers tapping against the desk. "You were found standing over Rose's body," she said, her voice dangerously calm. "Care to explain?"
The silence that followed was suffocating. My mind scrambled for an answer, but no words came. How could I explain it? The confusion, the shock... the utter disbelief? But I had to say something. I had to—
Maddie, bless her, broke the silence. "We thought it was a prank," she said, her voice quieter now. "Rose was always pulling stuff like that. We didn't—"
"Miss Parker," Hawthorne cut her off, her voice growing colder. "You didn't think that perhaps the situation was more serious?"
Maddie closed her mouth, looking down at her hands in defeat.
Olivia shifted uncomfortably, her eyes darting to the floor. "Rose wasn't... she wasn't moving," she whispered. "She was cold."
Violet swallowed hard and added in a strained voice, "We didn't know what to think. We thought maybe we were just seeing things."
Hawthorne's eyes narrowed, and she tapped the pen against her desk rhythmically. "And how did you come to be in that area?"
All eyes were on me. Again. The pressure mounted, and I opened my mouth but couldn't find the words.
"We were just... passing by," I said, my voice a whisper, trying to make the explanation sound natural. "We didn't expect..."
"Stop," Hawthorne interrupted again, her voice sharp. "You expect me to believe this is just a coincidence? You were found standing over her body."
I didn't answer. How could I? The room was closing in around me, and I could feel the weight of their stares, the suspicion thick in the air. I couldn't escape it.
The door creaked open again, and in walked Mr. Ross, our art teacher. His pale face told me everything I needed to know. Something had shifted. This wasn't just another prank. Something was very, very wrong.